


the start a simple touch

by aintitnifty



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Also I'm Atoning For My Sins Oops, Cuddling & Pining, M/M, what more could you want
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-23
Updated: 2014-01-23
Packaged: 2018-01-09 18:56:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1149599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aintitnifty/pseuds/aintitnifty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tatsuya’s head is heavy on his shoulder, and Atsushi doesn’t quite remember how or when it got there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the start a simple touch

**Author's Note:**

> I am atoning for my sins. My twitter friends will understand.
> 
> Enjoy the fluff!
> 
> <3
> 
> Title from "Heartbeats" by Jose Gonzalez

Tatsuya’s head is heavy on his shoulder, and Atsushi doesn’t quite remember how or when it got there. They are watching some movie or another, something with monsters and explosions and lots of fight scenes, but Tatsuya has seen it before, so now—apparently—he is sleeping, slumped against Atsushi’s side.

Atsushi peers down at the head resting on his shoulder. The dorm room is completely dark, the only light the ghostly glow from the television. Silvery light gleams in Tatsuya’s hair, and Atsushi feels like he can see every single strand, soft and sleek and clean. He moves his shoulder slightly, testing.

“Muro-chin,” he whispers. Tatsuya doesn’t react. Atsushi tries again, a little louder. “Muro-chin.”

This time Tatsuya’s brow furrows slightly, but he still doesn’t wake, instead just curling closer to Atsushi, his lips parting slightly.

Atsushi doesn’t blame him for sleeping. In fact, he envies him a little. Practice that evening was particularly rough, with Masako calling out intense sets of drills from the sidelines, suicides and dribbling drills and shooting drills and defensive drills, so many that Fukui was too tired to make any of his usual comments, Okamura was too exhausted to offer encouragement, and Atsushi suspects that Liu threw up in the wastebasket just outside the gymnasium after a particularly grueling set of sprints.

Tatsuya didn’t falter once, though. He skipped nothing, slacked on nothing, showed no weakness.

At least, until now.

Atsushi sets aside his Umaibo, careful this time to avoid jostling Tatsuya. He cranes his neck a little to see Tatsuya’s face. The frown is now gone, his expression calm in sleep and lit by the pale glow of the television. It really is an attractive face; Atsushi knows this, he’s admitted it to himself many times before and heard others say the same, although listening to that often makes him feel strangely uneasy and irritated.

Slowly, gingerly, he lifts his hand to brush the hair away from Tatsuya’s face. He’s done this before, once when Tatsuya fell asleep on his bed after a morning jog and another time when Tatsuya took a knee to the face during a game, but every time it feels like a thrill to glimpse the eye Tatsuya always hides, to touch pale skin that is usually never even seen.

Atsushi lets himself stare for a moment, and then another, and then one more. He stares at the dark curve of lashes fanned against Tatsuya’s cheek, the soft hair draped across his fingers, the slight flush of color over Tatsuya’s skin. He stares at softly parted lips, at a small, dark birthmark, at a face he is somehow always glad to see.

It’s this thought that makes something in his chest curl and grow warm. He can’t deny that he enjoys Tatsuya’s company, his easy companionship, his warm smiles. Atsushi misses Tatsuya when he’s not around, and even when he’s bullying Atsushi into attending practice or eating healthier foods, he’s still Atsushi’s favorite person at Yosen.

Or maybe just his favorite person period.

Atsushi finally moves his hand, letting Tatsuya’s hair fall back across his face. He watches Tatsuya breathe for one more quiet moment, and then gives into the urge to press his lips into soft, dark hair.

Tatsuya shifts against him and Atsushi freezes, panicked that he’s been caught doing something terrible, but then Tatsuya sighs and curls a hand around Atsushi’s own where it rests in his lap, and apparently continues to sleep.

Atsushi remains motionless, waiting for Tatsuya to speak, to wake up, to flip out and run away forever, but nothing happens.

So Atsushi links his fingers with Tatsuya’s, squeezing gently, and slides his other arm carefully around Tatsuya’s waist. The movie is still playing and something is happening with a robot and a monster, and his Umaibo is still sitting uneaten on the floor beside him, but with Tatsuya warm and heavy against his side, Atsushi finds that he really couldn’t care less.

**Author's Note:**

> This may become multi-chapter at some point, simply because I need somewhere to dump my drabbles.
> 
> Also it's very short. It's making me twitch.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
